


Dark and Windless Mirrormere

by lostinhellfire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: ...sort of, Angst, Hobbits have no concept of mental illness, M/M, Pining, Redemption, Rejection, Unrequited Love, canon character death, roadtrip across the undying lands, valar have feelings too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinhellfire/pseuds/lostinhellfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was easy to forgive you when you were dying, but now you’ve survived and while I am truly glad you did, I don't think I can ever trust you again."<br/>When Thorin survives the battle of the five armies ,despite being heavily wounded, Bilbo is forced to deal with the fact that Thorin very much tried to kill him.<br/>Finding himself unable to explain Thorin's actions he commits a serious and fateful mistake.<br/>His desperate effort to make up for his failures leads him to the east and then the west and across the entire continent of Aman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark and Windless Mirrormere

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thanks to my beta sab, who has been pushing me to write more for this (That's the only reason this got done so quickly) and also made me a lovely edit for it!  
> I had this idea of hobbits not understanding or having no concept of mental illness and really, it makes sense, with them calling Bilbo 'mad Baggins' for obviously suffering from ptsd and depression.  
> I have almost the entire plot down and it looks like this is going to be a monster. So be prepared.

 

It is said that when a person is about to die they speak the truth.

They feel their life coming to an end, so there wouldn't really be a point in hiding behind a facade. It would be freeing and giving them a feeling of serenity, having spoken and having heard the truth.

Bilbo doesn't believe that. In his experience, the dying are the greatest liars. He distinctly remembers one of his late aunts. A truly horrible woman. Rude, prejudiced and so very nosy. Everyone had known it, yet her relatives had described her as 'direct and honest' on her burial. One of his cousins had been a known thief and cheat. They stood at his grave and only talked about how neat and well-kept his vegetables were. His mother had loved going on adventures, had done so her entire life and earned a lot of resentment from her prim and prudish Baggins relatives. They forgot about their annoyance after her death and instead portrayed her as a perfectly respectable hobbit.

It makes sense. You only want to remember the best about a person, honour their memory. It's the selfless thing to do. Nobody deserves to be talked about badly after their death.

And everyone deserves to be filled with hope and comfort when they die.

That's the route they had decided on at Ravenhill.

The world around them was lying in shambles and the future of the newly reclaimed dwarven kingdom was as uncertain as possible, but they shared a few gentle, hushed words. Forgave each other. Held hands. All to ease Thorin into eternal sleep feeling like everything was going to be all right.

But Thorin had, in fact, not died that day on Ravenhill, and everything was very much not all right.

When Bilbo had left the broken and bleeding body of Thorin Oakenshield he had assumed him dead. He had been so still, so cold and he had not moved when sobs had racked the Hobbit right next to him.

He had left the corpse to sit by himself. To think about nothing.

Later he had found out that the skin-changer Beorn had carried the King into one of the healing tents. He should have gone to see him right away, but that hadn't felt right.

They had made their peace, but that was when Bilbo thought he was going to die.

Forgiving the king had seemed to be the merciful thing to do, but now he couldn't bring himself to remember how to do it again.

Thorin surviving had been an impossible outcome which had now come to pass-- and which forced Bilbo to actually deal with the consequences of everything that had happened over the last few days.

He found himself very reluctant to forgive.

 

\---

 

All Hobbits get the same basic education about herbs, which makes them far more knowledgeable about medicine than the average man or dwarf. So even though Bilbo never had outstanding healing abilities, he could still make himself very useful in the aftermath of the battle.

He hurried from one tent to the other, collecting and distributing salves and powders to elven and dwarven healers alike, sometimes even applying them himself, taking care to stay far away from any members of the company

 

Every now and then news about them would reach him in the form of overheard whispers between patients or healers.

That was how he heard about Fili and Kili succumbing to their wounds.

He had expected it, --they had both been severely wounded and although the healers had done their very best, it’d been hopeless from the start, but that didn’t make it less painful and it didn’t save his heart from breaking. He felt the tears fall down his face but couldn't bring himself to care about it.

Always up to mischief, always trying to one up the other, yet loyal to a fault and fiercely protective of each other and their uncle.

At the thought of Thorin Bilbo's heart hardened. The mountain king had yet to wake up from his healing sleep, but Bilbo had heard that his healers were optimistic about his recovery.

Bilbo wondered if the news of his nephews' demise would change that.

Thorin had sounded reasonably guilty and ashamed of his actions on the ramparts, so he had probably returned to be the same Thorin he had first met in Bag End, but then again Bilbo had never assumed Thorin to be capable of almost _killing him_ in the first place.

What if Thorin wasn't moved by the deaths of Kili and Fili? What if the news would drive him straight back into the gold-sickness? Bilbo would want to be as far away as possible if that came to pass.

A few days later a Mirkwood guard entered the tent he was working in and proclaimed, to nobody in particular, that the king under the mountain  had woken up.

Bilbo took a deep breath. Now he would wait.

 

\---

 

It took a mere day for Dwalin to find him. Bilbo could clearly see that the loss of the princes had taken its toll on him. There were shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes. He seemed full of sorrow.

"He asked us to find you. He wants to see you."

Bilbo sighed deeply. "Yes. Let me just finish here." He continued stitching the cut on the man's arm, but he could feel Dwalin shifting impatiently.

When the man left, Bilbo started collecting his tools, trying to postpone the inevitable as long as possible. It took Dwalin clearing his throat to make him see how pathetic he was being. If Thorin intended to make him pay for stealing the Arkenstone after all, Dwalin would have just arrested him. If Thorin only wanted to talk to him he didn't need to be afraid. Also he was most likely in no condition to physically harm Bilbo.

They didn't say a word while making their way through the debris at the foot of the mountain, but Bilbo hardly noticed. He was too preoccupied with wondering what Thorin and him would say to each other when they met for the first time since Ravenhill.

Dwalin stopped in front of a tent and motioned Bilbo to go on alone. Bilbo frowned, Thorin apparently wasn't stable enough to be moved into the mountain yet.

He took a deep breath, pushed the curtain aside and entered the tent.

The light inside was dimmed and the air felt heavy, smelling of sickness. Bilbo gulped and stayed close to the tarp. On a stretcher a few feet away was the mountain king. He sluggishly opened his eyes, blinking confusedly, but his eyes cleared when they fell on the hobbit.

He tried to sit up, but flinched in pain and sank back into the pillows.

"Can you- Can you come closer?", his throat sounded dry and scratchy.

Bilbo moved next to the cot. Thorin's condition was better than on Ravenhill, yet his breathing was still laboured and judging by the dark red stains on his bandages the deep cuts on his chest were only healing very slowly.

Bilbo found himself unable to look at him any further. He focused of one of the flasks on the small table next to the cot and waited for Thorin to speak.

The dwarf, obviously taken aback by Bilbo's reserve, said nothing for a while. "I want you to know that my words on Ravenhill were sincere. I deeply regretted my actions towards you and me surviving my wounds has changed nothing about that." He stopped, waiting for a reply, but Bilbo gave none. He had heard the words before, repeating them wouldn't change anything.

His lack of reaction made Thorin nervous. He stammered apology after apology, trying to explain his misdeeds, talking about a curse on his bloodline, but Bilbo had stopped listening. All he heard was a man trying to excuse his behaviour and that just didn't match the image of honour and candour he had of Thorin. It made him inexplicably angry.

He clenched his fists and jaw and refused to look anywhere but the flask on the table.

Thorin fell silent abruptly, in the middle of a sentence and when he started again, his voice was a mere whisper and his words full of sadness. "Bilbo, please look at me. Please. I'm so sorry, I love you."

Bilbo couldn't hold the mocking snort in and finally looked at Thorin in disbelief. On any other day the expression of distress on the dwarf’s face might have moved Bilbo, but all he could feel in that moment was contempt.

That apparently didn't stop Thorin from continuing to spew nonsense. "I have loved you ever since you saved me from Azog. I did not want to see it at first, but I couldn't fight it anymore and then you saved us again and again. Please believe me, I-"

"Dear Valar, will you _stop_ ," Bilbo interrupted him, his face contorted in anger and distaste. He couldn't believe his ears. "How dare you? Not four days ago you tried to murder me over a _stone_ and now you claim to love me? Have you no shame?"

"Please, Bilbo-"

"No, I don't want to hear it! Do you- Do you even know what love is? Your nephews followed you on this god forsaken quest. They _died_ for you. Did you love them? Or would you also have killed them, because you were convinced they betrayed you? I thought I knew you, but I cannot explain your actions." He suddenly remembered his own feelings for Thorin, but the memory only served to make him angrier. "Explain to me how someone so _righteous_ can doubt the loyalty of his own company and go to war over a few gems?"

"Please, Bilbo, please, it was the dragon-si-"

"The dragon was long dead, Thorin." he sighed and looked at the ground in front of him. "It was easy to forgive you when you were dying, but now you’ve survived and while I am truly glad you did, I don't think I can ever trust you again. Eru, I can't even bear to _look_ at you. You have your mountain and your Arkenstone, so my duty is fulfilled. I’m returning to the Shire tomorrow morning."

He heard a pained gasp from his left and a string of 'No, no, no, please don't leave, I love you', but he only grimaced. "Please, just stop, Thorin. There is nothing you can do to change my mind." He rose and turned to leave, trying to ignore Thorin's increasingly desperate pleas.

Standing in front of the exit he paused and the dwarf ceased his begging. Without turning back he said: "I am truly sorry for your loss." and left the tent.

 

\---

 

He stood true to his words. He had spend the rest of the day collecting provisions for his journey home. Come morning he was ready to leave.

He didn't say goodbye to any of the dwarves. He had no interest in telling them why he was leaving, they would only try to stop him. Thorin would tell them what had happened.

He was just getting ready to leave Dale, when a familiar voice called his name.

"Bilbo Baggins, did you honestly believe I would let you travel across half of middle earth on your own?" The grey wizard was hurrying after him and Bilbo fully expected to be scolded and told to stay at the mountain.

But Gandalf never did anything like that. He didn't ask any questions as they walked on and it was so unnerving that by the time they had almost arrived at the shore of the Long Lake Bilbo was ready to just snap and tell Gandalf about everything that had happened.

An entire day had passed since Bilbo had left the mountain behind. In the distance he could see the charred remains of Laketown. They had decided to rest a bit before moving on towards Mirkwood. They would take a more conventional road this time, as there was really no need to hide in barrels anymore. He was convinced that on their next visit to the Mirkwood palace they would be treated like true guests. Bilbo had taken the freedom of sneaking into Erebor and finding the gems Thranduil had so desperately wanted. He had found the elven king in Dale and just gave them to him. He tried to ignore the obvious surprise and just murmured something about 'making future negotiations less difficult'. That would be his parting gift to Thorin. He didn't know if the dwarf would thank him for it, but then again, it hardly mattered anymore. It wasn't like they would ever see each other again.

The thought made something ache in Bilbo's heart, but he quickly repressed it. There would be no lamenting past slights, that wouldn't do any good.

The raven caught up with them when they were just about to enter Mirkwood.

They turned back immediately.

 

\---

 

"I just don't understand", Balin sniffed. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen and he seemed older and smaller than Bilbo had ever seen him. "All his healers assured us he would make it. He was getting better!"

The funeral had been a very sombre, bleak thing. The company had only buried their princes a week before and now they had to bid farewell to their would be king. The dwarves had cried, had saluted their late leader.

They had believed him sound and to be robbed of this spark of hope had shaken them deeply. Dain was the rightful claimant to the throne, so the line of kings would persevere, but it didn't feel that way.

Bilbo almost pitied Dain.  A coronation was supposed to be a moment of joy and absolute triumph and now it would be overshadowed by grief. But he wasn't capable of pitying anyone right now.

The news of Thorin's death had hit him hard, unexpected. It had showed him how much he still cared about the dwarf; in the worst way possible.

Gandalf, Beorn, Bard and Thranduil had also attended the funeral. The elven king never once taking his eyes off Bilbo, studying him with a curious expression.

They had put the accursed Arkenstone on his chest and the sight almost made Bilbo sick. The reason for all of Thorin's suffering would be buried with him. May be it was for the best that the gem would now be hidden forever, after all, if it hadn't been for that blasted jewel Thorin never would have turned on his own kin. He wouldn't have changed. Bilbo didn't understand why Thorin had done everything he did, why he chose war instead of negotiations and why he almost threw Bilbo down the mountain, but he knew with absolute surety that the Arkenstone had something to do with it. And to think that the gem and Thorin's mortal body would share the same tomb was heartbreaking. He hoped it wouldn't continue to haunt Thorin in the afterlife, which made him wonder.

"Where do dwarves go after they die?", he asked, silently hoping he wasn't committing a cultural misstep by asking.

"We return to our maker. It is said that dwarves go to Mahal's halls after they die."

Bilbo nodded, not knowing how to feel about the answer. They fell silent for a while before Balin took a deep shaky breath and whispered: "I just don't understand why. It makes no sense. It's like he.. gave up, but that is not something Thorin would do..."

Something stirred in the back of Bilbo's mind and he shifted uneasily, not being able to pinpoint why.

Balin looked at him, seemingly contemplating something.

When he finally decided to ask Bilbo about whatever was bothering him, he sounded very hesitant, as if he was being too forward by even thinking about asking that question.

"Did he.. Did Thorin ever... Has he told you about his feelings? For you?"

He interpreted Bilbo's violent flinch as surprise.

"Hm, I hadn't thought to. He was so very private after all. But considering all that he wasn't being very clandestine about his affections at all.", he chuckled quietly, not even noticing the dread rushing through Bilbo like an ice cold river. "You should know that he held you in very high regard. He valued your opinion and company. As more than just a friend."

He gave Bilbo a meaningful look, still not noticing the ground crumbling under the hobbit, leaving him to fall freely.

"I know that you have felt something similar, if not the same and I am so very sorry that you weren't granted the chance to start a life together."

Bilbo heard the words, but wasn't comprehending them anymore.

"What-", he started, but his voice broke, so he had to try again, "What would make a dwarf lose his will to live?"

"Well, we dwarves are a quite hardy people, physically speaking, but we still feel like every other race, some even say we feel more deeply than others. For a dwarf to give up on his life it would take a severe emotional shock. Like a sudden death of a loved one, loss, rejection or another intense hurt.", He sighed, "Well, it's very unlikely that we will find out why it cam to this."

Bilbo stared at him. He didn't know. How could he not know? But then, it made sense. He had only told Thorin about why he would return to the Shire. Everyone else would assume he had left because he was homesick of because of unfinished business.

No one could have known that he had practically called Thorin a liar when he confessed his feelings to him, no one could have known about the things he said, that he was the one who....

"I- I'm sorry, I have to.." He turned and ran. He only stopped when he couldn't hear any voices and hid in a corner, sliding down the wall until he cowered on the ground.

It was his fault, all his fault.

He slapped his hands on his mouth, thinking he was going to be sick.

He was responsible for Thorin's death.

He didn't know how long it took him to calm his erratic breathing and he was able to think clearly again, it could have been mere minutes or hours.

Still crouching at the foot of a pillar he made his decision.

Having said the things he said to Thorin was unforgiveable.

Letting him eke out his existence in the afterlife still believing all these horrendous things was even more unforgivable.

He was going to make it up to Thorin. At all costs.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an amalgam of two of my headcanons. If you follow my tumblr, you may know which ones I'm talking about....  
> If you're not following my tumblr already, please go check it out!  
> lostinhellfire.tumblr.com is always open for headcanons and fancasts for the valar (v relevant for this fic) and general bagginshield!  
> also check out my lovely beta buriedbilbo.tumblr.com!!


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